Arthur Read: A Journey
by Pigwidgeon1991
Summary: Arthur is now 18, and starting his senior year of high school. It is a first person story, about Arthur finding himself. WARINIG, there is language and some sexual situations involved;
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The other day, I found a piece of ancient history, and by ancient, I mean like, ten years old. It if from my days in Mr. Ratburn's third grade class, an old assignment he gave us just before we left for the fourth grade. We were supposed to write down where we saw ourselves in ten years time, when we would be seniors in High School.

"It is an interesting thing," Mr. Ratburn had said, "to try and imagine yourself so far from now, to try and picture how much you will change in that time."

We all filled out a little bit about where we wanted to be, what we would be doing with our lives and other such crap. On the last day of third grade, he gave us an envelope.

"Here is your third grade time capsule!" He said, enthusiastically, "In ten years time, you can open this and see how your lives differed from what you thought they would." In the end, I stuck mine in the back of my closet and forgot about it, for ten years. Wow, Ratburn, nice one. I hadn't thought about third grade or the assignment since I was eight, but the words of my former teacher kept rattling around. How different was I, how much had I changed, how far from the path I had set for myself ten years ago had I strayed. I opened the envelope and rushed to my bed to read it. Turns out old Ratburn had included everyone in mine. I guess that was so he wouldn't have to label the stupid envelopes and could pass them out en mass. I started reading from the first line, interested not only in how badly I had done, but also on what my classmates had thought.

The first name on the list was Buster Baxter, my best friend; I recognized his messy handwriting instantly. It was a photocopy of the original, but I could just make out the pizza stain on the bottom of the page. It was nice to see that some things never change.

_When I am eighteen, I will be a friend to all Aliens, who have come by now. My mom and I will be housing all Aliens who need a home during their visits. I will be the funniest person in high school and I will still be hanging out with Arthur, my mom and Harry._

Bull SHIT! Okay, yeah, Buster and I still hang out together, but nothing else he predicted had come true. It was really obvious that aliens haven't visited, but that wasn't the part that had caught my attention. He mentioned Harry. How ironic it seems now. Three years ago, Buster's mom, Bitzi, remarried a guy named Cliff Roberts. He is this weirdly short guy with mud brown hair, and kind of a big belly, who Bitzi kind of fell for all at once. After they got married, Harry, who had been a friend of Buster and his mom, took a job at the Crown City Gazette, and left within a week. Buster now lives in Cliff's house (I cannot call it Buster's house because it is emphatically not Buster's house) with his mom, two cats and a stepsister called Mia. Mia is Cliff's 16-year-old daughter, who is kind of bitchy, and visits her mom every other weekend, and is the main reason Buster now spends most of his free time hanging around the Library (because it has wifi) and is actually doing well in his classes. He has ADHD, but his meds and his complete hatred of going home have helped. He still is a bit of a pig, but, yeah, he's still my best friend.

Thinking about Buster and me, brought up thoughts of "The Brain". I skimmed over some of my classmates and found his. His handwriting was neat and precise, so radically different from his current scrawl that I almost missed it.

_In ten years time, I will be a senior at Elwood Central High School. I could potentially skip a grade, but my parents would like me to remain on a semi-normal educational plan. I will probably still be working at my parent's Ice Cream Parlor. I hope to be leading the Academic Decathlon team to National victory. Other than that, I am unsure about the future._

I wanted to laugh! Brain is not on the Academic Decathlon team, and only works when his parents pretty much beg him to. He is still one of the smartest people I know, but he is also a pothead. He doesn't smoke as much as some, but enough to kind of fry his brain. I guess we should call him by his real name, Alan, but it would be to weird to change now. He plays base in a stoner blues band with a few of our classmates and some weird guy named Jeff, who is like 25, and lives in his parent's basement, but plays the drums like a mad man, so yeah. He, Buster and I still hang out together at school, when Brain isn't working on some new song with his band, or getting stoned behind the comic book store (the only place we can smoke and drink in peace). As I read Brain's overly intellectual pretentiousness, I kept picturing Mr. Ratburn, and how he'd shit himself.

Francine Frensky's paper was the next I looked for. She has had a rough time in life since third grade. When we started middle school, her dad got like this big promotion at work. Instead of just being a garbage man, he was the foreman of a large group of them, and got paid a lot more money. So the whole Frensky clan moved from their tiny, two-bedroom apartment, into an actual three-bedroom house. Francine was so excited; the only thing that she could talk about was the fact that she finally had her own room. Then in freshman year, her sister, Katherine, got married. She was taking Para-legal courses at the Elwood City Community College, while living at home, when she married her Air Force captain of a husband. So for a while, it looked like Francine was riding high. Then, at the end of last year, Francine got pulled out of pre-calc, and taken to the principal's office, and we didn't see her for the rest of the day. Her dad had a stroke. It was a pretty bad one from what Francine has described. He lost the use of his limbs, and is in a wheelchair now, but he also just sits in front of the damn T.V. all day, and doesn't really react when anyone comes by. Its like he's a ghost or something, like most of him has died, and now he's just waiting for the rest of him to catch up. To top it all off, Francine's Air Force Captain brother-in-law got shipped out for active duty, so Katherine and her one-and-a-half year old son have moved in with Francine, her dad and mom and their cat, Nemo. Talk about the fuzzy end of the lollipop! As I looked at her optimistic prediction (_I will be the captain of every sports team_) and it made me feel sad. Sure, Francine still played soccer, but now she was working at the drug store to help make ends meet at home.

Muffy's was the next one I sought out (I had given up on reading them in their entirety). _I will be the ultimate fashion and art icon of Elwood Central High School. _Her goofy loopy "f's" and the hearts over the "i's", so familiar to me, reflected how shallow and spoiled miss Muffy Crosswire was, and still is. Her life, unlike that of her so-called BFF Francine, has been nothing but excellent. Her dad now owns like, five car dealerships all over the state, and he is literally richer than God! My dad still caters all of his fancy parties and such. But the only thing on Muffy's mind lately is her boyfriend, Zeke. Zeke goes to Haywood High which is a ten minute drive from Muffy's mansion, and plays guitar and is, according to Muffy, "The most perfect human being on the planet!" She NEVER stops talking about him. You could ask her what she thought of the weather in outer Kazakhstan, and she would somehow manage to turn the conversation back onto the subject of Zeke. She also does not even try and hide the fact that they have more sex than two horny bunnies. It is actually kind of disgusting.

I skipped over George, Maddie, Rachel and a bunch of other girls in my class (none of whom I have talked to since middle school) to get to two more, Sue Ellen Armstrong and Fern Walters. Sue Ellen is the very definition of overcompensating. She is on the student council, plays soccer and lacrosse, has a 4.0 GPA and manages to have a varied and engaging social life. I have no idea how she does it (taking Red Bull intravenously?) but she does, while simultaneously putting us all to shame. Fern is kind of the opposite. She is moody, emo and goth all rolled into one depressing ball of sorrow. Every moment she isn't writing depressing poetry or listening to depressing music, she is saying depressing shit. It can be emotionally draining to hang out with Fern for too long, but out of all of my friends, she is the only one with a fake-id. So she always has booze (and cigarettes, but only Fern smokes). Brain has taken to calling us "The Fern Walters Suicide Prevention Society", in an attempt to be funny, but it isn't, not really. I honestly don't know WHY I still hang out with Buster and Brain and Francine and Muffy and Sue Ellen and Fern, but I do. It is comfortable, seeing as how we were all doing well at one time, and now we all kind of suck at life.

The last page I search for belongs to Jenna Morgan. She went to ECHS along with the rest of us, and was kind of my girlfriend. She moved away at the end of the year (her dad got a job in Kentucky). I say "kind of my girlfriend" because it really was a one sided relationship, because I no more wanted to be Jenna Morgan's boyfriend than I wanted to have my testicles removed via my ass hole. Jenna wasn't bad or anything, I just didn't like her in that way. I remember kissing her at her goodbye party, how she pressed her lips hard onto mine, and how she kept trying to get me to open my mouth (so we could presumably French), but how I kept my lips solidly together. Afterwards, she leaned back and, with tears in her eyes, said "Don't you love me?" GOD! I hated it when she asked me if I loved her, because I didn't. Not in that way. "Yeah," I said, looking away from her, "yeah, of course I do." Then she started crying into my shoulder and sobbing how awful it was that we wouldn't be together and a lot more bullshit like that.

I do not, as a rule, like kissing. It is weird having someone else's lips pressed against yours, breathing in your carbon dioxide while you breath in theirs. I haven't had much experience in the field of kissing, but enough to know that I don't like it. The worst kiss I'd ever had was with Fern. We got really drunk one night and started making out. It was messy and wet and she ended up puking in my lap, which caused me to puke into hers and we were generally drunk and disgusting. Muffy keeps informing me that I just need to kiss the right girl, and it will all be so magical, but I have kissed enough girls to make a call. Kissing is pointless and kind of sucks.

I was just about to put the papers down, when one fell onto the floor. As I picked it up, I noticed the familiar handwriting, small and kind of jittery. It was my own, eight-year old hand that had written my path to the future, and now I was going to see how far I had truly strayed.

_In ten years, I will be the best goalie ever, a concert pianist and an all around awesome guy._

I still play piano, I am a mediocre goalie at best, but other than that, I, Arthur Read, am the worlds biggest fuck up.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The first day of school is always super lame. I know its fun to see all your old school friends again and to meet your teachers and everything, but by the time you reach your senior year, school has lost its magic.

I wake up to the sound of D.W. screaming, I mean singing, in the shower. No matter how many times I tell her that her voice could be classified as torture, she insists that it is shear perfection. I groggily roll over to check the time, 6:45. School does not official start until 8 am. I drag myself out of bed, and walk to my dresser. Mom has placed a pair of neatly pressed khakis and a light green polo shirt on my desk, in an obvious attempt to get me to dress nicely for the first day of school. I ignore the preppy trash and pull on a pair of jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt. I don't care how much Muffy mocks me for wearing them; I like how I look in them. I then put on my black Chuck Taylors and head downstairs for breakfast.

"At least TRY and do something with your hair!" my mom moans as I walk into the kitchen for breakfast.

"Good morning to you too," I say, with just as much contempt. I like my hair messy. It is kind of a dusty blonde color, and it kind of falls into my face, giving me a permanent bed-head look. Kate comes in after me, looking as disheveled as me.

Kate is my baby sister. At ten years old, she is the most mature and awesome human being on the planet. We get along really well, and I am always telling her about my day, and she tells me about hers. She is kind of my secret keeper. I know it is beyond lame to have your kid sister as a secret keeper, but I really do trust Kate. She is by far my favorite sister. Mom gives Kate a look of disappointment as she sees Kate's t-shirt and jeans ensemble. Both of us have a complete and udder lack of caring for our appearances. Kate gives me a smile as she sits down across from me, grabbing a piece of toast. Dad has prepared a virtual feast for breakfast this morning. There are eggs, bacon, sausages, toast, oatmeal and fresh fruit cut into decorative slices. This is combined with fresh squeezed orange juice and milk in the picnic pitchers we use. This is one of the benefits of having a dad who is a professional chef. But honestly, I rarely eat much for breakfast beyond maybe a bit of cereal, so this is kind of weird.

"Eat up," Dad says, turning from the stove, wearing his "kiss the cook" apron.

I respond by grabbing a handful of bacon and serving myself some eggs. Even though my dad is the small town equivalent to a five-star chef, there is no way to make scrambled eggs in any way palatable. They are the one disgusting constant of breakfast, runny, gross and completely constant. I am pondering the constants of the universe, when my annoying, middle sister, D.W. She is a complete and utter airhead! D.W. (or Dora as she prefers to be called), so unlike Kate and I, wears stylish clothes and reads _Vogue_ and crap like that. She is obnoxious, self-centered and probably has more self-confidence than ten of me.

"WHERE ARE MY MARY-JANE'S?" she yelled. D.W has the loudest cry in the animal kingdom; I mean seriously, her voice can shatter glass. D.W is wearing tight leggings, a black mini-skirt and this twisty top. She looks like an Americas-Next-Top-Model-Wanna-Be. Her hair is long, done up in thick curls. D.W is also wearing make-up, a lot of make-up.

"Hard night of work?" Kate asks D.W, so casually she could be asking about the weather. Mom shot Kate a dark look, I smiled, D.W stormed out of the room.

School doesn't start for another hour, but I leave the table anyways. I haven't finished my bacon, or really even touched my eggs, but I leave the table. My room is quiet, and calm. I can think

This year is definitely going to be different. For one thing, no Jenna, no Jenna always by my side, wanting to get affectionate while I resist with every muscle in my body, I would be free. Its not that I didn't like Jenna, but I really didn't like-like her. I've never really like-liked any girl; I just haven't met my perfect one. Muffy has it in her mind to find me a girlfriend, and I guess I just chose Jenna to get Muffy off of my back. I look towards my backpack, lying there, sans books (hadn't gotten them yet), sans notebooks (they were on my bed) sans anything I would need. I had been putting it off for days now; I guess I really didn't want to go back. I surrender to the inevitable and start loading up my bag. As I am placing notebooks, paper, pencils etc into my bag, I started thinking about Jenna again. Why didn't I like her? She's nice and cute and a really fun person to be around, I just didn't like her, not like that.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It is my job to drive D.W to school. This has been my job for two straight years now, but this is the first time (since elementary school) that we will be going to the same school. I know we won't be seeing a lot of each other, we travel in different circles, but I still am required to drive her. ECHS isn't too far, we could theoretically walk, but since Elwood City gets cold in the winter, I managed to convince mom and dad to let me get a car. My car. It is this old green clunker that is my main ticket to freedom. It is also my ball and chain. One of the main provisions of me getting the car was that I have to chauffer D.W and Kate around. Kate is not so bad, just to hockey practice and back and the occasional post-sleepover pickup, D.W, not so much. As D.W and I are riding in the car, on our way to school, neither of us is talking. She is sulking in the front seat, while I silently drive. The radio works, but neither of us is reaching for the knob to turn on the music that would drown out the silence.

"Drop me off at the corner," D.W says, when we are getting closer.

"Why," I asked. As a senior, I had a prime parking spot, right in front of the building.

"Just," D.W stated, "because!"

"Fine"

I pulled over to the corner of the street that leads up to the school and let her out. She jumped out of the car, and ran off towards the school. Ah, she doesn't want to be seen in my green monstrosity! Whatever! I drove off towards the senior/staff parking lot. Last year, my spot was right next to Jenna's, so I saw her all the time, but this year…

I pulled into my spot, next to a beat up old jeep and an empty spot, and parked. I got out, grabbed my bag and went into the building. Two weeks before the start of the school year, all students go in and get their class schedules, locker assignments and other crap. My locker is near Buster's and a bunch of other seniors, in the mathematics hall. I walked to my locker and opened it up. Just as I was putting my bag in my locker, Buster came over and leaned against the lockers.

"God, not this again," he groaned. I smiled, but said nothing.

"What's your schedule like?" Buster asked, turning to have a good look at me. I answered, without removing my head from my locker.

"Calc, Chem, English Lit, Jazz Choir, French and History."

"You're STILL in choir?" Buster asked, rather degradingly.

Yes, I am still in choir. I was asked to join, because I play piano, but it is actually my favorite class. I can't sing that well, but it is an easy class, and I like the people in it. The guy who plays base is really funny and good looking. He doesn't have a girlfriend, even though he could have his pick of any girl in school.

"I couldn't get out of it," I lied. Only Kate knows that I actually enjoy choir, and I am kind of determined to keep it that way. Trying to get Buster off of the subject I asked him about his classes. As Buster started in on his rant, I looked over towards him, down the hall. That's when I saw him.

He was just standing there at the end of the hallway. He was beautiful. His hair, a tawny auburn color was casually messy, beautiful curls that frame his face perfectly. His skin was clear and smooth, like porcelain. He was wearing a plain grey t-shirt and a black zip up hoodie that highlighted the top of his butt perfectly. His jeans were, tight, but not too tight. They accentuated his calves, so that he looked like a Grecian statue, brought to life.

"Hey!"

Buster was calling to Brain who had just sauntered up to us. They boy closed his locker and walked away. Even when he walked, he seemed to radiate pure lightness and…

"So, what are your classes," Brain said, breaking the spell the guy had cast.

"Huh?" I said, rather awkwardly. Both Buster and Brain looked at me kind of funny. Then the bell rang, and I half screamed my class schedule to Brain as we ran down the hall to our first periods.

My first class of the day was Calculus, not the best way to start a day. The teacher was a formidable looking forty something named Mr. Lass. He had this rather large mustache and wore a shit-brown suit. I could tell just by looking at him that this class was going to suck super hard! As Mr. Lass started in on the rules of his class, and the other bullshit I had memorized in middle school, I began thinking about the boy from the hall. I had never seen him before, and while I didn't have an extensive knowledge of my classmates, I think I would have noticed if Adonis had been walking around. He must be new. Then my thoughts when to a very dark place, why had I been looking at the boy? No, no! I banished such thoughts from my head, I was only admiring true beauty of form, and tried to pay attention to Mr. Lass, who was now passing around our textbooks. They were huge! Even though most sane teachers will not do much of anything on the first day, Mr. Lass began right in on the very first chapter.

Francine was in this class with me, and she passed me a note as soon as Mr. Lass turned his back to us to write something on the whiteboard.

"_Have you seen Muffy yet?_"

I scrawled back that I hadn't and casually passed the note back to Francine. There is a certain art in passing notes in class that over the years I had pretty much perfected. Last year Jenna would constantly pass me little love notes in class. It was kind of creepy stalker-ish behavior, but I guess, since we were "dating" it would more likely be considered cute. I only occasionally responded, usually after five or six notes, and even then, I was rather mean. Francine passed the piece of paper back to me.

"_She's been texting me. Says she's got big news. Meet at Sugar Bowl after school._"

I wrote back to say yes. Just as I was passing the piece of paper back to Francine, a large, rather hairy hand reached down and intercepted it. I looked up, still holding out my hand to see Mr. Lass standing over me, holding the note. He kept talking the entire time! His bizarre lecture on the basics of Calculus, had taken him on a journey around the class and he now held the note in his hand as he continued his journey. The note wasn't that bad, I had worse notes from Jenna, but still, its humiliating to have a teacher read anything you write that is not specifically intended for their eyes. At the end of the lecture, Mr. Lass called Francine and me up to his desk.

"I do not tolerate notes in my class," Mr. Lass said, "As it is the first day, I will give you a pass. But be reminded, if you pass notes again, there will be consequences."

He dismissed us with a wave, and I yelled to Francine as we walked to our next class that I would meet her (and Muffy) at the sugar bowl after school, and ran off to my next class, English Lit. As I turned a corner, just feet away from my class, I saw him, again. I'm not sure if he was just a ghost, or a real person, but again, he captivated me. He turned into one of the other classrooms, and it took me a minute to realize that he was gone, and I was still moving, right towards a bank of lockers. I walked straight into the corner of the end locker and slammed my entire lower body into the cold metal. It hurt! Embarrassed, I quickly darted into my classroom and ducked into my seat. It was only then that I realized that a small, red stain was forming just below my knee. The girl I had ended up next to had also noticed.

"Oh my god!" she said, far too loudly for the small classroom, "You're bleeding!"

"Yes, I'd noticed," I said, rather snidely. The teacher, Ms. Proust looked towards us, and then sent me to the nurse's office to get cleaned up. Day one, and I'd already gotten into trouble and shed blood. Senior year had better calm down a bit from here, or else I might not make it.

I walked, slowly to the nurse, thinking about the boy. Who the hell was he? I didn't know about 80% of my classmates personally, but, having walked the halls for three years previously, I had a relatively good sense of who was in my class. He looked to old to be a freshman, and I hadn't ever seen him around before, so, I reasoned, he must be a new student.

The nurse asked me how I'd gotten hurt. Rather than tell her, I'd been looking at the physical incarnation of Adonis when I walked into the lockers, I lied.

"Just wasn't paying attention," I told her. I don't think she believed me, but she patched me up anyways. It wasn't a deep cut, but still, it hurt.

When I got back to class, I noticed that Sue Ellen had an empty seat next to her (the girl I had initially sat by, had another person next to her), so I plopped down. Sue Ellen looked slightly concerned at my leg, but said nothing more. Ms. Proust was no less enthusiastic than Mr. Lass, but at least she didn't appear to be a sadist. We got a list of authors we were going to be reading that year, starting with Geoffrey Chaucer. It was a surprisingly long list, compared to the school year, and it looked like I was going to have homework in this class every single night of the year. Ms. Proust mainly covered the rules of her class, and what her policy on homework was (summary after every book, and assignments scattered in between). This year was going to suck.

We had a break between second and third period, so Sue Ellen and I met up with Fern and Brain and sat outside on the steps of the school.

"So," Sue Ellen asked, "What do you think Muffy is going to tell us?"

"Dunno," Brain responded, flicking the top of his bag.

"Probably something big," Fern said, "She looked really excited in History this morning."

"Probably something to do with Zeke," I added.

"But she looked happy this morning," Sue Ellen cut in, "He couldn't have broken up with her."

"Yeah," Fern said, "remember the David fiasco?"

David was the boy Muffy had dated in our freshman year. He was a big, dumb jock-type who broke up with Muffy after only five weeks. She had come into class sobbing so hard that our teacher had sent her to the office to get cleaned up. It was slightly embarrassing, but so Muffy. It was really unusual for her to keep quiet about big news for so long. Buster and Francine joined us, and we spent the rest of break pleasantly speculating about what Muffy's news was. At the end of break, I left for choir.

I had been persuaded to join the jazz choir in my sophomore year, because, I play piano. Our teacher Mr. Cartwright is the coolest, most enthusiastic teacher I had ever had, and I honestly loved the class. I am not the best singer, but, as the primary accompanist, I did not have to sing.

I got to the class, just as the second bell rang. I grabbed the sheet music binder from its place on the shelf and wandered over to the piano. Mr. C, as we called him, usually reserved the first day of class for picking soloists and duets for the fall concerts. This meant that I was playing all period. As I looked around the room, from my vantage point at the piano, I saw something that I had never thought could be. Not five feet away from me, sitting in a chair, was the guy.


	4. Chapter 3

Arthur's Journey: A Novella

**Chapter 3**

Oh My God! I couldn't believe it! There he was sitting down, looking at his binder, right there in the choir room! Mr. C doesn't normally let newcomers into the Jazz choir, so it was really unusual to see him there. He must have gotten some sort of pass from the principal or Mr. C or something like that. The rest of the class filled in, not noticing that Michelangelo's chief model had taken his place in our classroom. I kept staring, my eyes burning a hole in his shirt, while Mr. C started the roll call. He read off names, familiar names that I had been in choir with for three years previously.

"Prescott, Liam," Mr. C said. The boy looked up from his binder, his bright grey eyes shining like gemstones. So, now I had a name, Liam, nice.

After hearing his name called out he looked around the choir room, his eyes scanning over the room, until they rested on my eyes, which had been staring at him. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, his eyes burning holes in mine. It was awkward and wonderful at the same time. I blushed and turned away. I was so embarrassed that I didn't hear Mr. C say mine name. It was only after he shouted it a few times, that I jerked my head and said "Huh?" A few people giggles and I blushed even harder. I knew I must look like an apple on a stick with straw and glasses. Why? I had never blushed like that in my entire life, even when I had ripped my pants in front of my entire elementary school cafeteria. It was weird, blushing at a guy. Thankfully, Mr. C finished role call and started in on the soloist auditions.

"Our first concert," he said, in his usual peppy, energetic tone, "is with the Elwood city Youth Symphony in three weeks, so we have to get working right away."

He began passing out the sheet music for the concert. We were singing four songs on our own and one with a visiting college choir from somewhere. In all the songs, there was only one solo. This wasn't unusual for our first few concerts; we didn't get any real solos until we got into Christmas carol mode, but still. The thing that was going to be the problem for me was that, since we were singing with the symphony, there would be no need for an accompanist, so I would have to actually sing. But, for now, it was solo try-out time.

In any other choir class, Mr. C would start out like any other class. He would read the rules, and introduce himself, maybe play a game to help everyone learn names. But in Jazz Choir, we are all business, solo auditions, vocal placement etc. The soloist part was for a tenor, so Mr. C got all the tenors to audition. I am technically a Tenor. I can also sing Baritone if I force my self, but I usually don't. There are only about thirty people in Jazz Choir. Most of the class is composed of girls, and they are always eager (sometimes over eager) to audition. Girl solo auditions can take up the whole class period, so Mr. C doesn't actually require any of the girls to audition. The boys, on the other hand, have to audition (unless you are me, who plays piano, Jeremy, who is the jazz drummer, or the guy who plays the base). The only girl who never auditions is this girl named Caddy Redmond, who has a pixie cut and fire red hair (not natural). She is the back up accompanist, so we occasionally talk.

The guys slowly stood up, one by one, coming up to me, and picking out a section of classical music to sing. Since the Elwood city Youth Symphony doesn't play jazz music, we will be singing the classics. As the tenors (there are six) finished, Mr. C looked over to the guy (since I know his name, I guess I should use it), and said "Well Liam, are you ready?"

Liam looked embarrassed. He obviously didn't know the rules about auditioning. "Uh…" he said.

"Just come over and pick out a song and Arthur," Mr. C said, gesturing towards me, " and he can play it for you, unless you would like to sing accapella."

Liam looked like he was going to protests, but then he slowly got up, and walked towards me.

"That's the spirit," Mr. C said, smiling at Liam. When Liam got up to the piano, he looked at me for a moment, his grey eyes sparkling, and said, "Do you have, _Ave Maria_?".

Ave Maria is usually a girl's song, but it can be used for Tenors, though I had never heard it done. I nodded. I wanted to say something to him, but my voice had turned off. I don't think I could have said anything, even if someone had been holding a gun to my head. I turned away from him and fumbled in the music binder. I turned to the music and got ready. Under normal circumstances I would look at the singer, and wait for some signal from them for me to start. As I couldn't look at him without blushing, I just started in, at least, Ave Maria has a descent intro. The sudden jump into the song didn't seem to phase Liam, he started when the words started.

The music that flowed from his was so beautiful, so pure, so magical. I almost stopped playing, but somehow kept going. Most people will stop after like, a third of the song, or Mr. C will cut them off with a polite and enthusiastic round of applause, but for Liam, he didn't. He actually let him go through the entire song. Afterwards, Liam walked to his seat. The rest of the class was dead silent. The silence lasted until Mr. C started up again, and we began working on the first piece, something in Latin, but I really wasn't paying attention anymore. Liam was even more perfect than he appeared. Yes, he did have a perfect body, and yes, he dresses in a way that flatters him nicely, but the fact that he could sing better than anyone else, well, that was sheer perfection. I did pay enough attention to notice that most of the girls, and, for some reason, the Bass guy were all kind of dreamily looking at Liam. I could understand the girl's fascination, but the Bass guy?

After Choir, I ran to my next class (French 4) and pretty much ignored Madame Chestnut, and though about Liam and the scene in Choir. It had been so weird, but the Bass guy and the Choirgirls and me, how we were all looking at Liam, as if he were the Mona Lisa and we were rubbernecking tourists, weird.

For some strange reason, my mind jumped from me-Liam-bass guy- Mona Lisa scenario to Muffy and Zeke. Muffy met Zeke at some party she went to that none of us did, and they were dating with in a month. Now they have been dating for almost six months, a new record for Muffy. Her last beau, some brain dead member of the hockey team (I don't remember his name) lasted only a week. And yet, Muffy somehow turned their breakup into a mountain of emotions, more suited to a sudden divorce after thirty years of marriage. I mean seriously!

The one benefit of Zeke, is that he doesn't go to our school, so Muffy cannot cling to him 24/7. But she still talks about him 24/7! If I she's not describing the latest romantic thing he did (for the record, texting someone "hey im brd" in class is NOT romantic in any sense of the word), then she is describing him in excruciating detail. One time, when Brain caller her obsessed, she said "that it's no different than seeing something beautiful and describing it to a friend, like a sunset, or a great work of art".

I kind of zone out for the majority of French class, only coming to when Madame Chestnut gives us an assignment at the end of class, something about "describe a book that you read this summer". Ok, I wasn't truly paying attention, but it doesn't really matter. I am in that class with Sue Ellen and she can always be counted on to bring up assignments. Even if I have no earthly idea what's going on. Then the bell rings, and its time for lunch.

3


	5. Chapter 4

Arthur's Journey: A Novella

**Chapter 4**

The Elwood Central cafeteria is a large room, but it never seems to be large enough for all the people who eat here. The tables are constantly filled and, unless you arrive in the first two minutes of lunch, you will be waiting in line for hours (an exaggeration yes, but it seems forever, when you are hungry). Normally, I pack lunch, my dad being a chef and all, so I don't rush to the cafeteria. I slowly got up from my desk in French, and took my sweet time walking to the bench outside, where I (and all of my friends) eat when the weather permits. Sue Ellen was waiting for me outside the classroom door. Odd, I thought, because she usually runs on ahead.

"What's up with you today?" she asked as we began to walk down the noisy halls.

"Nothing," I said, not really looking at her, "I'm fine."

"Seriously!" Sue Ellen said, stepping in front of me, blocking my path, "You are totally out of it today, first English, and now, I honestly don't think you paid the slightest bit of attention in French class!"

"I was too!" I said, side-stepping her, so that I could continue down the hall.

"Really?" she asked, running to keep up with me, "what is our first assignment?"

I stopped, and looking her straight in the eyes, I said the only thing I could think of "Describe a book, in French."

She kept staring at me. People didn't seem to notice us, they kept walking past us, a benefit of being in a large-ish school.

"Arthur," Sue Ellen said, in a much quieter voice than she had been using, a hint of suspicion escaping, "we are supposed to review character descriptions, in the book, and do the assignment on page 23."

"Oh," I said, embarrassed (what else is new), "I, uh, heard wrong." I kept walking, trying to lose Sue Ellen in the crowd, which was proving impossible.

"Is this about Jenna?" Sue Ellen asked, mostly to my back. I wasn't going to answer her. No, of course it wasn't about Jenna! Liam was still on my mind. It was like I couldn't shake him.

Sue Ellen kept talking while we walked. Part of the time she was chastising me for not paying attention, the rest of the time she yammered on about student council, lacrosse, her wanting to volunteer at the animal shelter again, but that she didn't think that she could squeeze it in as it would mean that she wouldn't get home until eleven. I stopped paying attention after about two minutes into the conversation. Having been friends with Sue Ellen for long enough, I know that, given the right circumstances, she will monopolize the conversation. All I have to do is occasionally nod and look halfway interested in what she is saying. We reached the bench in due course and met up with Fern. The others were getting cafeteria slop.

"What up?" Fern called to Sue Ellen and me as we sat down.

I gave a brief shrug, while Sue Ellen began to describe her day, thus far. I looked in to the brown paper sack that my dad had packed for me that morning. It contained the usual faire; sandwich, chips, a soft drink, basics. The start of the school year is when my dad his most normal meals. After about mid September, he starts using leftovers from his catering jobs. One time I got deviled eggs, a cream cheese and cucumber sandwich, and a thermos of bubbly grapefruit juice. I don't mind it when my dad gives me fancy stuff; I just wish he would give me a heads up when he does. When I got to the deviled eggs, my books had smashed them. My bag smelled like eggs for weeks after that. Buster and Brain joined us a few minutes later, both with big foam cafeteria trays. Francine came next, with her homemade lunch of PB&J and a juice box. More than once, I have offered to get my dad to make her a lunch, but she always refuses. Muffy joined us last. I was surprised to see that she had bought one of the cafeteria's pathetic excuses for a salad. She normally never enters the cafeteria; she has her personal chef make her something. As Muffy sat down, Francine looked at her point blank.

"Muffy, you have never been this quiet before. What the hell are you going to tell us?"

Muffy looked coyly at Francine, then at the rest of us. She shook her head, and then smiled at us.

"You'll know soon enough." Muffy giggled.

After that brief interlude, Buster, Brain, Fern, Muffy, Sue Ellen, and Francine all started in on berating the teachers (Mr. Lass is apparently evil incarnate), comparing homework loads (Sue Ellen has the most, of course) and complaining that summer vacation was over. But I found it hard to truly pay attention to anything they were saying, as Liam was sitting outside.

It appeared that he had gone for the cafeteria burger and fries combo. Even as he ate, he just looked amazing. He could have been in a gorilla suit eating a severed head and I still would have been mesmerized. I have no freaking clue why I was so obsessed with Liam. He's just a guy! An incredibly good-looking guy, but still, why did it appear that he was the only thing in this whole school that was worth looking at. I noticed that he was sitting alone. I guess, because he is a new kid he doesn't know anyone yet, so why would he be sitting with someone. I got the idea into my head to go over and sit with him. As soon as I had finished the thought, I began to run through all possible outcomes of the scenario. None of them seemed to end well, some ending in fire and apocalypse. I may have a bit of an overactive imagination.

I heard someone say my name, and I looked away from Liam to Fern, who was looking at me, expecting an answer to a question that I hadn't heard. I gave her a quizzical look.

"I asked you how your leg was feeling," Fern said. Her voice wasn't impatient, which was weird.

"Oh," I stammered, "sore."

"Sue Ellen told us about your accident this morning," Francine said.

"Yeah," Buster added, "you've really been tuned out today, what gives?"

I turned bright red, and lowered my head. I mumbled something about there being something on my mind. It would have been so easy to point out Liam, and attempt to explain my apparent fixation on him. Something told me that I should never speak of it to anyone, or the world may implode (as I said, way over active imagination).

As I looked up, I noticed that all of them were looking at me. I stared back at them, a little harder than was normal, and they averted their eyes. They started to resume normal conversation, and I even joined in this time, but I kept checking on Liam.

Buster was now complaining about his stepsister, Mia, and her new boyfriend (I don't remember his name) and how they are spending a lot of time together at "Cliff's House". We all commiserated together for a bit. By "we all", I mean those of us who have siblings; Francine, Brain and myself. Muffy has an older half-brother who is a lawyer or broker or some rich guy profession. Since he is so much older than Muffy, she doesn't count towards the sibling group. I hadn't really thought about it before, but I guess I hang out with more "only children" than I thought.

Lunch continued in banal chitchat. We ate, we talked, and we ate. I kept watch on Liam, until he finished his lunch and walked away. The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. We all got up and called hurried goodbyes as we ran to our various classes. I had history. As I entered the classroom, I looked around for a familiar face to sit with. I vaugly knew all of the other students, we had, after all been in the same classes for four years now. I saw bass guy from choir, and decided that he was my best option, so I sat in the desk next to him. He looked over and nodded at me, I nodded back, then we both looked back at the board, and waited for our teacher, Ms. Haversham to begin. I have known base guy for four years, we started in choir together, the only freshmen accepted into jazz choir. He sings really well, but for the life of me, I cannot freaking remember his name.

History class passes as classes do. We learned that we would be studying all the various civilizations in the world, starting with hunter/gatherers and stuff like that. Ms. Haversham is a good enough teacher, but still, it was hard to pay attention in her class. It had been hard to pay attention at all today. Normally, I at least follow enough of what people are saying to not look like a total idiot when people ask me questions, but today was somehow different. It was more than just first day jitters, or whatever my mom calls them.

I was almost done! I only had chemistry left, and then I was free. From what I had heard of the Chem teacher Dr. Klinger, this class was going to be great. I am not the best at math-y stuff, and I know that chem involves a ton of math, but I figured with a good teacher I stood a chance of passing. Plus Sue Ellen can always help me if I get stuck. I walked from the history room to Dr. Klinger's classroom. It was on the other side of the building, so I half jogged to get there. As I ran, I passed a bunch of freshmen looking really lost. That's the benefit of suffering through the years here, I at least knew my way around. When I got to chem, I noticed that nobody was sitting down. I looked at the board and read

"WELCOME TO CHEM, WAIT TO BE SEATED WITH YOUR LAB PARTNERS –DR.K"

Not one to argue, I stood with the rest of my classmates. I had this class with Buster, Francine, Brain, Sue Ellen and Muffy. Buster gave me a thumbs up and as I moved towards him, someone bumped me. I turned to look who had hit my arm and I found myself gazing into the deep, opalescent blue eyes of Liam Prescott. Well isn't that something.

3


End file.
